Decisions
by TryRunAgainstTheWind
Summary: Ariadne is confused and unsure of what do do now that the Fischer job is complete. But what will she do when Arthur rings her 6 months later? will she accept his idea? and what danger will come if she does? the dreaming business is a dangerous game.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfic, so please review and tell me what you think! its not very good, but I'm only thirteen so I'd love any constructive critism! Thanks! :)**

**Holly**

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Ariadne

You don't realise how big an impact something has made on you, until you find yourself sitting in your crappy apartment that is neglected and cluttered with drawings, staring dejectedly out the window, watching through the rain at the tiny specks that were the Parisians living their insignificant little lives.

I could feel the fat tears roll down my face. I could hear an old truck wheeze and spit past the apartment block. And I watched the excitement, the thrill, the glowing confidence I once felt, drain from my eyes. All that was left was an empty hollowness.

It's been five months, twenty seven days, and three hours since I saw the team. _But who's counting?_ I thought dryly to myself. I could still distinctly remember each member; Cobb, a wide, open face with tortured, blue eyes and slicked back hair. Yusuf, rounded glasses and a mop of black curly hair that made his skin seem even darker. Saito, his critical eyes always slits in his oval face. Eames, a cheeky grin playing on the corners of his mouth, and warm, green eyes. And Arthur…

Arthur was always impeccably dressed. Perfect black suits, clean, crisp shirts and polished dress shoes. His hair was raven black, and was slicked back like Cobbs. He had a poker face of steel, but the kindest eyes I've ever seen. They were such a dark brown the looked like pits of endless black.

A shudder rippled down my spine, but it wasn't from the cold. Nevertheless, I wrapped the blanket even tighter around my torso.

"I'm afraid there is to be no contact for at least six months, for security purposes." Was the last thing Arthur said to me. He had smiled one of his rare smiles. His dimples were to die for. I had nodded and gave him one last departing glance. And then I strode down the corridor.

I don't know why I was so eager to leave. I suppose I was anxious to finish my degree in architecture, but, as I returned to my daily regime, I realised how dull my life had become. It made me sad to think that I had missed out on a chance to dream again.

I was desperate to become a god once more, to build masterpieces using only my hands. The power was almost over whelming. But it was gone, just like Arthur. And Cobb, Yusuf, Saito and Eames. Vanished into nothing but air. Along with the chance that I could've dreamt again.

I stood up angrily. _Stop thinking like that! _I scowled. This had to stop. All I did was mope around complaining how miserable my life is. I dug under a bunch of sketches for my old globe. When I found it, a new energy began to form in the pit of my stomach. I traced my fingers delicately over the plastic, feeling the ridges that divided each country. And then I stopped my careful touch.

_Morocco. _I smiled and let the word roll off my tongue. There it was in fine print. It might be nice to take a holiday. Get my mind off my bleak future. I phoned the airport almost immediately and booked a flight for tomorrow morning.

I grinned at the thought of leaving Paris. I wanted to _see_ what the world had to offer. And this was my first step.

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Two days later, I was sitting in a first class seat, watching Paris slip under me. I heaved a sigh of relief. I closed my eyes and tried to picture Morocco. This was the first time I'd ever even been _near _South America.

I fidgeted in my seat the whole way. Sleep was impossible, seeing as every time my eyes shut, all I could see was the airy warehouse that I worked in for only two and a half months.

Just as I began to nod off, the airhostess' voice rang through the speakers in Arabic. From what I could only guess, the plane would be landing soon.

Relief flooded through me as the plane stuttered to a halt and I jumped out. As I walked out of the doors, I could feel the immense humidity that surrounded me. Thank god I'd worn shorts.

When I strode through the airport, I searched for a cab. Eventually, a brusque man with a thick moustache threw my bags into the boot of the little Mini. We drove in silence, and after twenty five minutes, pulled up to a respectable looking hotel with palm trees lining the sides.

"Thanks." I muttered, and he nodded, looking completely bored.

When I trudged up to my suite, which happened to be up on the eleventh floor, I stood in the dying sunlight and gazed out the glass wall. The black mountains jagged out in sharp and angular directions; a small lake sat in the desert-like mouth of the earth; and the last of the sun cast shadows against every bare tree, cactus, rock and animal. I sighed and glanced once more at the magnificent view, then changed into my pyjamas, and finally, made my way to bed.

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"Ugh…" I groaned and lifted the tanned, hairy arm from around my waist with disgust. "Asshole." I muttered to the bastard that took advantage of a stupidly drunk girl. Which, unfortunately, just had to be me.

I'd lived in Morocco for no more than two weeks now, but nothing seemed to change. I wasn't feeling the new excitement of being somebody different, or meeting new people, or discovering new inspiration. I felt nothing.

I pulled on a ragged pair of shorts and a t shirt and wrote the stupid man a note.

_Fuck off. _The two words made me crack a smile. I would repress that memory of drinking out my sorrows with vodka and tequilas in that dark and noisy club forever.

I pulled out my new scarf that I bought a few days. It was beautiful; a deep purple with crimson and mint green patterns of elephants and dark forests embroidered into the silk.

I walked briskly back to my little room in that hotel, that seemed to look shabbier with every passing day. Once I climbed into the cold shower, I instantaneously felt better. The water unlocked my tense muscles; the drumming of the water was surprisingly very soothing.

As I stumbled out of the bathroom, I checked the time on my little nokia phone. It surprised me as it began to vibrate. _Holy shit._

The caller id showed the one name I'd been trying to forget for six months and two days.

_Arthur_.

"Hello?" 


	2. Chapter 2

I paced, once again, around the stuffy little room. What in god's name did Arthur mean? Our conversation was brief, and extremely frustrating.

"Ariadne? Where are you?" he barked down the line.

"I'm in Rabat, in Morocco. Why?" I snapped. What the hell was he doing ringing me? And asking where I was?

"Ok," he sighed, which sounded like a heave of a relief more than a sigh, "Just, don't move. I'll be there by tomorrow."

Now I was annoyed.

"What? No, more importantly, _why?_ Why are you ringing me?" I tried my hardest to suppress the hidden rage that begged to scream inside my stomach. "It's been six months since… well you remember. So don't you just want to go back to your normal little life of whatever the fu…"

"Ariadne, if you would please just let me speak, I would happily let you know _why_." Was that a sarcastic edge to his voice? "I ran into a few… unwanted acquaintances over in Paris before the Fischer job, and Eames has recently told me that they were looking for an architect. And if they were to approach you with an offer, they're not the type of people you should associate with."

I rolled my eyes. He sounded like my _father_. "Thank you _kindly_ for the concern Arthur, but I can take care of myself, thank you very much." I replied indignantly.

"Oh, I know you can. But that doesn't mean they won't make you." I could hear him smile. "The dreaming business is a dangerous game, Ariadne. Many people die by just refusing," his tone returned to normal. "And these acquaintances of mine have heard about you. And they're interested."

"Oh that's just super." I muttered dryly.

"Yes, well, I'll see you tomorrow then." I knew this was his goodbye.

"Right, bye Arthur." As I flipped the phone closed, I cursed myself. _You idiot! _Why couldn't I just have thanked him for his act of kindness and be nice about it? No, I had to snap at him like a spoilt brat.

I sighed in agitation and continued my pacing. After about ten minutes, irritation and boredom overtook my embarrassing conversation with the Point Man. So I decided to take a little stroll.

As I walked lazily in the afternoon sun, I contemplated the strange, but best six months of my life that I shared with the five men I had tried desperately to forget about. Especially one particular man that fascinated yet confused me every time we spoke. We had once shared dreams; he had once taught me the concept of dreaming and the sheer impossibility of such a thing; and he had once stolen a kiss from me in the most unexpected place.

I cursed myself for letting those thoughts consume my mind _once again_. I had accepted the fact that I would never dream again. And now Arthur had ruined it.

When I got fed up of walking, I returned to my ugly hotel room. I found myself flicking through my old textbooks.

The familiar designs and patterns were very soothing, and I sat there for about forty minutes. I read about Salvador Dalí and Adolf Loos' works of art, and traced their complicated drawings with my baby finger, until I was interrupted by a brisk knock.

My heart almost stopped beating, then began to race along at top speed.

"Hello?" I called suspiciously, looking through the eye hole. The black maid was looking at a piece of paper in her hand with obvious confusion.

"This is for you." Said the woman when I opened the door. I nodded and closed the door behind her.

'_I'll meet you tomorrow at 7, in Oriosá's. x' _is all the little note read. Heat crept up my neck and I flushed violently. I assumed it was Arthur, but there was something so… unprofessional about it. Very unlike him.

I shrugged and put the note onto the desk by my bed.

I realised, with chagrin, what a mess the room was. When I was bored, I would doodle all over the hotel stationary, which was now scattered all over the floor. My clothes were in a heap on the only armchair, and towels were strewn across the bathroom and bed.

I should really clean up for Arthur…

Not that he would see the room anyway…

And now I'm blushing again.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a long night. My hair was like a birds nest from tossing and turning in that stupid king sized bed.

When the sun _finally _emerged from behind the dry mountains, I rolled out of bed and into the shower. The cold water managed to make me jump and hit my head against the tile wall. _Wow, this is better than coffee. _I thought jokingly to myself.

Once I was respectable again, I grabbed an apple from the shop downstairs. Moroccan food was very dodgy, even breakfast. I made that mistake on my first morning, and spent the rest of the afternoon by the toilet seat.

As I sat there, chuckling at the memory, I didn't realise the time. It was already eleven in the morning; yet it felt like six.

A sharp, rapping noise sounded outside my door.

_Holy God._ I tried very hard to keep calm. I edged my way towards the tapping noise, and very slowly, opened the door by a crack.

It was enough. There stood the immaculately dressed Point Man, with a look of pure calm on his face. I opened the door fully and stared straight into his eye.

"May I come in?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. I nodded and beckoned him inside my piece of shit of a room. It was strange how just an innocent, normal room irritated me so much.

"Ok. Explain please, 'cos you lost me on the phone call… actually, wait just one second!" I realised, to my complete horror, I had forgotten to tidy the room and it was an absolute tip. I ran around, stuffing clothes under the bed and into my still open suit case. All the while he stood there, an expression of mild amusement playing in his eyes.

"Alright, that's a bit better… anyway. Back to _you_." I managed to choke as the blush began to seep out of my cheeks.

"Well, I came to make sure you did not come near these two men," he pointed to two small photographs of one burly, Vietnamese man, and another wiry, stony faced man. I nodded slowly.

"Ok. Why the sudden concern in my safety?" I quizzed. His usually composed face was now full of confusion and shock.

"Well, I care for everyone who deserves to live." He shook his head with a bemused expression in his eyes.

"You think I deserve to live?"

"What sort of question is that? Of course I think you deserve to live! Don't you?" he was angry now.

"Well, yeah… I suppose. Anyway, why didn't you meet me at Oriosá's, like you said you would?" I swiftly changed the subject, as heat crept up my neck once again.

"Excuse me?"

I handed him the note. The confusion on his face froze, and his mouth mashed into a hard line. "Fuck." I heard him whisper.

An overwhelming wave of dread washed through me. "You did write that, didn't you?" I squeaked.

He met my gaze. It was cold, with hidden terror deep in his black eyes. "Oh shit."

He rolled his red die on the table five times, sighed, then looked at me once again.

"Ariadne, listen very carefully. You have half an hour to pack all of your belongings. I will be outside the door in case you need me. No arguing." And he turned on his heel and, as he promised, stood outside the door like a guard.

I stood there in shock for a few seconds, then the adrenalin hit me and I flew around the room, throwing everything I touched into the suitcases.

I was done in less than ten minutes. I nodded to Arthur and he took my bag off me. I protested, but he was having none of it; he was tenser than a wound up cuckoo clock. We half ran down the corridor, and as soon as we stepped outside, his hand slid to the small of my back.

_Oohh my Lord._

My heart lurched at the unexpected touch, but he was oblivious to my sudden heart spasm. He guided me into a sleek, black car. I frowned as he revved the engine and sped off.

Even though I despised my hotel room, couldn't eat any food, and was extremely homesick, I would miss Morocco. The craggy mountains would be imprinted in my mind forever.

I leaned my head against the side of the window, and sighed deeply. _What happens now?_ I pondered. I had no answer for that.


	4. Chapter 4

**This is in Arthurs POV, just thought it would be a nice for a bit of variety.**

**Hope you like it!**

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Arthur

Those stupid fuckers. I curse their damned souls to the pit of hell. Of all people, _Ariadne_. They had to be interested in her. The one girl that made me feel and do weird thing whilst in her company, I want them to _die_. That would make my life just that much better.

She was confused, her eyes would glance to mine every once in a while, as if she needed assurance.

"Have you got your totem with you?" I blurted randomly. Her face was calm, and it softened ever so slightly.

"Yeah, I fished it out before I left for Morocco. I didn't realise how much I missed it until I tested it that first time in… what, six months?" her chocolate brown eyes were warm.

Her new silk scarf was wrapped around her head like a bandana, a few curls escaping and lying on her collar bones. The urge to gently tuck them behind her ear was almost unbearable.

Almost.

The task at hand filled me with hate and rage, those sick men who wanted everything, to be the most powerful con artists on the earth, and they wanted her to join their disgusting little cult…

I took my anger out on the road; I revved the car so loud it screamed.

"Well, at least you have it." I breathed out slowly. Now that she was following, she _could _help us…

"Arthur, where in the god's name are you taking me?" her curiosity was evident, but she was still irritated from my out-of-the-blue phone call. It was necessary. With Agra and Ethos, it was join, or die. Ariadne will never have that option.

"We are going back to L.A, Eames and I have been working there for a while. Just keeping a low profile, you know?" she nodded and stared out the window.

"Ariadne, I'm sorry for dragging you out of your holiday like this, I am only doing this for your safety. We'll get rid of these guys, I promise."

"Arthur," she sighed. Her voice sent confusing goose bumps up my arm. "I don't even know who they are, or why they're so dangerous. I don't care that you just barged over and demanded that I leave, I really don't. I just want to know _why_ I have to be protected against these men. I'm a grown woman for pity's sake!"

I stared at her for a minute, her porcelain face stared right back at me. _You don't know what they're capable of. _I thought dryly to myself.

"The dreaming business is a very dangerous game. We are hired normally to uncover secrets of huge members of society, which are aroused suspicions by a family member or rival. But if they were ever to find out whom we are and what we do, they can easily send a truck full of men to hunt us down, and kill us.

"The two men that I showed you in that photograph, are very skilled extractors. Not nearly as good as Cobb, but smart all the same. They want to be the _best_. They want to have every business man begging to hire them. If they see someone they are interested in, someone like you who is extremely talented, they will stop at nothing until they get them. It's join or die."

I let Ariadne drink all of this information in; I could see the click in her head as she registered what I just said.

"And they're interested in me," I could hear the frown in her voice.

"Let's hope not. But if they are, we have to stay hidden for the time being."

The silence in the car echoed against the frame. "What are their names?" she asked abruptly. These topic changes never ceased to fascinate me. Was she feeling uncomfortable? Or was she just curious?

I grimaced. "Agro and Ethos. They're both Russian."

"Ok. Oh yeah, you just missed the turnoff for the airport." She stated, matter of fact. I chuckled at her strange, funny little quirks of constantly changing the subject.

I pulled into the airport and parked right in front of the automatic doors.

"You're not supposed to park here…" but I cut her off mid sentence by gently putting my hand to the small of her back. I marvelled how delicate her spine felt underneath my fingertips…

As quickly as the thought came, I banished it, but didn't move my hand. I escorted her to the ticket counter, then finally let my hand drop. I could barely hear her exhale of breath, but ignored it and went about to getting tickets out of here as quickly as possible.

Once we were sorted and ready to go, I sighed heavily and boarded the plane after Ariadne. We had just made the half two flight, and we would be in L.A by eleven p.m.

Airplanes were so familiar to me now, it was almost comforting sitting in our first class seats, waiting to take flight. Of course, the weird and wonderful girl sitting next to me helped just a bit…

"You look tired. Try and get some rest," her eyes looked sleepy, and she was slouched in her seat. She nodded daintily.

"Good ideaa…" she slurred and was out in less than ten seconds. I smiled at her peaceful face and closed the blind by her eyes. I wrapped her in a blanket that the waitress had offered, and patted her hand. It felt rather nice to take care of her, which was very unlike me, and not something i would normally do.

For the rest of the journey, I dozed, planned escape routes, or watched Ariadne dream. It was indeed, a very comfortable journey.

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**I should have the next 2 chapters up by tomorrow night! :) **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey! this is back in Ariadne's POV but i'll defnitely have more Arthur in there soon. **

**Enjoy! :)**

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Ariadne

For the first time in months, I dreamed. It was a strange, hazy dream. I sat alone on the top of one of the twin towers. There was a gale, and the wind was blowing tendrils of hair into my face. I leaned over the edge to look down at the colossal drop below me. It was magnificent; I could see little dots of people talking on the phone and drinking coffee.

The dynamic changed abruptly. It went from a sort of calm, peaceful atmosphere, to a tense knot in my stomach. A deep, thundering noise echoed under my feet. It gradually got louder and louder.

Everything froze. I felt the building buckle from underneath my knees and in slow motion, I somersaulted off the edge. Gravity returned to its normal pace and I fell 1,734 feet into the air. (How did I know that exact figure?) I could hear the wind rushing through my ears, and right before I was smashed to pieces from the impact of the ground, I woke up.

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I felt my pupils shrink in the sudden light. I gasped in surprise, as I took in the face beside me.

"Hello, how did you sleep?" Arthur smiled his rare smile that would have sent a shiver up my spine if I wasn't so damn surprised. We were still on the airplane together.

"Ok…" I muttered.

"What did you dream of?" wow, wasn't expecting that question.

"How did you know I was dreaming?" I quizzed, now defensive. He just chuckled and patted my hand patronisingly.

"I've seen enough people asleep to know when they're dreaming, Ariadne. So, what was it about?" that curious spark was back in his eyes.

"Er… I _think_ the 9/11 actually." What a puzzling dream. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that. How strange… you do know what date it is today, don't you?"

Now I was confused. "No, why?"

"It's September eleventh."

I could feel my jaw drop, and hastily closed it. "Oohh. Well I suppose that explains the dream." I half smiled at my ignorance.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. How was he still talking to me after these painfully embarrassing conversations?

"Well, the plane is due to land any minute now, but honestly, I wouldn't worry about that dream. It's not like anyone tried to kill you or anything." And with that, the plane stuttered to a halt, and his hand was on my back, guiding me once again. I'd slept ten hours straight.

"Ok, I want you to get in the over-the-top dark green convertible outside the front door the second I give you your suitcase." Arthur whispered into my ear. I stopped breathing at his sudden closeness; it wouldn't help the situation if he got a whiff of my morning breath.

I merely nodded and he stepped away again. I could still smell him. He smelt _clean_: like soap, with a hint of aftershave.

With a wink, he handed me my case, and then I half ran to, as he said, a very over-the-top car. There sat the cheeky British man with a smirk playing on his lips.

"Ariadne, darling. How are you?" he smiled, and I jumped in and fastened my belt.

"Not too bad Eames. And you?" why wasn't there the same awkwardness as when I talked to Arthur?

"A bit stressed, if you can understand what I mean." I nodded and he sighed. "Jesus, how long does the man take?"

I grinned. _That_ relationship obviously hadn't changed much. Arthur strode out of the double doors, looking completely nonchalant.

"Drive." He ordered the second he sat down. Eames' smirk grew and he saluted the now glaring Arthur. He slammed on the accelerator, giving me whiplash as we sped down the freeway.

At the speed we went, we made a half an hour journey for a _normal_ person into a ten minute drive for a maniac. We pulled into an airy warehouse that looked very similar to the one in Paris. It even had the same deck chairs.

Arthur dumped his suitcase by, what I was guessing, was his desk. I followed his lead and threw my own by the only empty table. I sat down into a pale blue deck chair and compared the almost identical warehouses that I'd ever been in. (Which was two.)

"We were actually planning on taking a visit to Paris sooner or later, Ariadne. But our little friends from the North just sped up the process. We wanted to offer you a job." Said Eames, coming to sit on the chair opposite mine.

"Really?" I was astounded. I was lucky enough to just get a few months out of dreaming. I'd diminished any thought of me ever getting the chance again, but Eames just rekindled my dead hopes.

"Yes, you're the best out there, and we've seen what you can do," Arthur added. "So, would you like to help us?" He stared straight into my eyes, almost like he was staring right through me… holy crow how did he do that?

I blushed at his kind words. There was a debating conversation racking my brains. Of course my instinct was to say yes, I really did want to.

But as I thought it through, I wasn't sure if I wanted to be treated like a ghost straight afterwards, like the last time.

It was a difficult conflict. Each point was equally correct, but I was still uncertain.

They stared at me expectantly. Was that hope, deep in Arthur's eyes?

I knew my answer.

"Yes," I finally sighed. "Ok, start giving me some details on the target." The two men's stiff shoulders visibly relaxed. Arthur began firing out information almost immediately.

"His name is Antonia DelCaptio. He's an Italian merchant that has become increasingly popular, and is now one of the richest men in Europe. We've been hired by his right hand man, Vacci Seemind, to uncover the tricks of his work. Vacci is planning to disown his friend for petty reasons that I do not understand. Nevertheless, it's our job to do this."

I nodded. It didn't sound _too_ hard. "Ok. Got it."

"Good. I'll give you some more info on him. You'll have to make a maze that will catch Antonia out, but one that we can escape from very easily." And with that, he smiled and I followed him over to his perfectly neat desk.

"Thanks." I murmured as he handed me a thick stack of small print with so much information about this Antonia guy it made the words swim. I started immediately on his case.

For the first time in six months and eighteen days, I felt perfectly at home.


	6. Chapter 6

Over the next week, I worked extremely hard on my mazes. It was not only for my own sake, but secretly; it was to impress the two men that bickered incessantly. All day, every day, I heard them banter like brothers:

"What are you _doing_?" Arthur asked, irritated.

"What does it look like darling? My _job_." Eames retorted.

"Does your 'job' involve grooming your grey hair, _pet_?"

"Well, I may have a few silver hairs, but at least I don't sit there with worry lines permanently stuck on my face."

It would go on and on and on like this. Even today, they fought like children over a chocolate bar.

"Eames, would you please not do that here." Arthur glared at the British man that was just lighting his cigarette.

"Oh I apologise for trying to harm your already dying lungs." Eames jokingly replied.

"Not in here. Go outside or something." Arthur rolled his eyes at him. It actually looked as if Eames was going to agree.

"Nah. Its cold outside, and anyway, I enjoy your company _so_ much." He sniggered at the point man's dirty look.

Arthur walked right up to Eames and shouted at him.

"What is your problem? Why are you making us MISERABLE?"

Eames slowly smiled. "And who is _us_?"

"Myself and Ariadne. Obviously." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and ran a few fingers through his hair.

"Ariadne dear, do you find my company something so _miserable_ that you would rather stay with this stick in the mud?" Eames called over to me. I looked up from my work. I'm sure there were bits of paper all over my face.

"Eames, I do not find your company miserable, or yours, Arthur. But if you wouldn't mind, could you please stop bickering like a bunch of five year olds?" I cracked a smile at their indignant faces.

"Stupid fucking British fool…" Arthur muttered under his breath. And it was back to the work that sent pain from your very fingers, to your spine. It was the sweet pain of satisfaction. I barely ever slept, never mind went home.

But showers were a sort of necessity. I groaned and stretched my stiff bones. It was three in the morning, and the sky was black, the moon the only light for a six mile radius. I yawned and grabbed my scarf, wrapping it tightly around my neck.

"Who's turn is it?" I called. Of course I knew; it was Arthur's turn to drive me home. Him and Eames would take it in turns to pick me up and drop me home each day. Arthur emerged from the dark corner of the warehouse.

"C'mon, it's really late. Bye Eames." He called grudgingly to the snoring forger. We made our way to his sleek GMC. There was a strong wind, and I shivered. Ah fuck, I forgot to bring my jacket.

"Wow, it's gotten so cold, for L.A." I commented. He looked at me and smiled. I held his strange gaze. Arthur and I had actually begun to get close, as friends. Except for that stupid, bloody kiss in the Fischer job, that I still tried desperately _not_ to think of. If I ever wanted to have a conversation with him that didn't involve both of us staring at the ground and twiddling out thumbs.

"Yeah, quite unusual for October. Oh well, I suppose its hurricane season, am I right?" he laughed at my sudden unease.

"I sincerely hope not." I replied, frowning.

I slumped into the tinted car. I don't know was it the gentle purr of the engine or the security I felt with Arthur, but in the midst of our conversation, I dozed off.

It was weird; I was almost positive I was dreaming but I couldn't be sure. I felt Arthur's hand on mine. It seemed like he was guiding me somewhere. He whispered in my ear, "Goodnight, Ariadne." And was gone. I pulled off my jeans and took out the little bishop I carried everywhere. It tipped over. How strange.

I awoke to a knock on the door. I grabbed my bishop and checked who it was through the key hole. Of course, it was Arthur. I opened the door.

"I'm sorry. I over slept. Could you wait just two minutes?" I apologised, blushing tomato red. He smiled kindly. Why did he have to be so understanding about everything? Why couldn't he be horrible and snide? It would be so much easier not to like him that way.

"I'll be out here if you need me!" he called from outside the door. I got the strange sense of déjà vu. This time two weeks ago, he was rushing me out of my holiday, now I was going back to the job I would always love.

I rushed out the door in my usual clothes; skinny jeans, a t shirt, a hoodie zipped up half way, and my other cream scarf. I brushed my teeth and hair, and careened out the door, and straight into Arthur.

"Whoops! Shit, sorry Arthur." He just chuckled and steadied me. We walked out in silence. I was still futilely embarrassed about my collision. _You're such an_ idiot _Ariadne! _I thought angrily.

"Er, Arthur, how's Cobb doing?" I blurted randomly. I don't know why I did that. Maybe just to break the silence, or I was curious. I don't know why anymore.

Very briefly, so quickly I thought I could've imagined, but a deep sadness and disappointment crossed into his eyes. "He's living with his family at the moment. I doubt he's coming back Ariadne," Was that a hint of bitterness? "He's very happy. You have no idea how much he missed them." And his cool mask was back on.

Just for a few seconds, I saw Arthur, a man that missed his friend and colleague. But the Point Man returned just as quickly as he left.

"Ok… well good for him." I wouldn't bring up Cobb again. It wasn't fair.

We stepped into his sleek, almost modest, car. It smelt of leather. The journey was quiet; there was no need to fill the space with mindless chatter. I leaned my head against the window and watched L.A fly by.

"We're going under today. I need you to show me the mazes." Arthur declared as we walked into the warehouse.

"Hello to you too darling." Eames grumbled, winking at me. I smiled at his relaxed smirk already forming on his lips. I felt my heart thump loudly with excitement and apprehension.

My stomach slid nervously as we approached the lawn chairs. I took the needle and slid it into my wrist, copying the boys. I breathed in and out evenly, and sunk into the dream world.

It was my dream we starred in. The sun shone high in the sky, the lake a glittering black. The buildings surrounding us gleamed like crystals against the aqua of the sky. I knew that just by thinking about it, I could make the building melt like honey, and new structures appear.

"Ok, let's get cracking, shall we?" Eames appeared from the shadows, Arthur strolling behind him.

I imagined the maze I'd spent the last two weeks agonising over, finally getting it just perfect. "It's a nice complicated maze, for a man as smart as DelCaptio." I gestured at the rising buildings. I could hear the men's footsteps behind me. I tried very hard not to dwell on that fact.

I led them around my impeccable maze. The escape route for us was perfectly hidden. I walked through where they should be and how they should proceed in getting there.

"This tunnel leads underneath the target's party. He doesn't know he's dreaming so he thinks that he's just throwing a party for the launch of his new building." The men nodded.

"Good work Ariadne. This is perfectly laid out. We'll have a test run tomorrow." He smiled impishly, and I jerked my chin out, my one use for not blushing from his praise.

And the dream collapsed at our feet. I awoke feeling better than I had done in months. I knocked my bishop over with a satisfying thwack. God, I'd missed dreaming.


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok, I just _had_ to put in my home country in this chapter, hope its not too confusing! Well hope you enjoy it, please review :)**

**Holly :)**

* * *

The rest of the day moved very slowly. So when Eames collected me the following morning, I was almost jumping out of my seat in excitement. I couldn't wait to dream again; to watch my creations come alive from just a single thought.

"Skittish, are we?" Eames commented. I rolled my eyes.

"No, I just need to go to the bathroom." I muttered. Eames snorted at my pathetic response.

"Yeah, that's definitely the reason. It's not to see our favourite little Point Man, is it?" Eames teased. I shot him a dirty look. "Ok, whatever you say." He muffled his grin with his hand. I glared out the window. But not even Eames' playful banter could keep me from my excitement of entering the dreamscape.

We entered the breezy warehouse and I strolled to my desk, looking over my mazes again. I felt uneasy, like I was being watched. A shudder ran up my spine, and I spun around. There was nobody there.

"You okay?" Arthur murmured. He was closer then I expected. I jumped at his voice.

"Yup. I'm grand. Just give me a second." I panted. I was so sure there was someone behind me… I shook the thought away. Arthur stared at me with confusion and concern.

"Alright so. Are you ready to go under?" he replied. I shook my head vigorously. Maybe a bit too enthusiastically.

I lay on the lawn chairs and felt the calm of the dream hug my eyes, begging to sleep. I welcomed it with open arms.

* * *

It was the same as yesterday. I showed them where the party would be held and our escape route. The tunnel was damp and cold. I brushed against someone's arm.

"Sorry." Arthur whispered. I blushed and nodded. _Of course it had to be him. _Our footsteps echoed down the endless black road.

"Ah, _finally_. Why'd you have to make this damn tunnel so long, eh Ariadne?" Eames broke the silence as the filter of light of the ballroom illuminated our feet. I scowled in the darkness.

"Eames, please could you shut your stupid-ass gob for just two minutes?" Arthur retorted, irritated.

"Ooh, touchy, are we Artie?" Eames chuckled. Arthur grumbled something incomprehensible under his breath. I rolled my eyes at their banter. They were like an old married couple.

Eames climbed up the ladder first, followed by Arthur, and me trailing behind. Arthur grabbed my hand and pulled me up the last step.

"Thanks." I mumbled, shooting him a grateful smile. His eyes softened just a bit, and then he turned his head to Eames. My stomach slid around like melted butter as our eyes met.

The ballroom was the colour of honey; the chandeliers glittered ten feet above our heads. The napkins were in the shapes of either ducks or swans; I couldn't tell. I felt the earth tremble under our feet.

"Shit…" I whispered. The overwhelming feeling of déjà vu swallowed me. The thundering planes coming closer and closer. A hand grabbed mine the minute before the dream collapsed. I didn't have to look to know that it was Arthur. I obviously looked more freaked out than I thought.

I woke up stiff, the lawn chair poking into my back. Arthur went straight to the computer.

"Oh no. Shit-balls!" he shouted at the screen. I stumbled over to him, still dizzy.

"What? What's wrong?" I looked over his shoulder at the screen. Arthur rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes.

"What is all the commotion about?" Eames grumbled.

"You know the way DelCaptio was supposed to be on his way to L.A next week?" Arthur looked at me. His eyes looked blacker than ever.

"Yes, so?" Eames interrupted. I broke the gaze, looking at the Forger's annoyed expression.

"Well, change of plan," his brow furrowed. Eames and I exchanged a confused glance. "He's gone off to Ireland. For reasons I cannot fathom, but he just left about ten minutes ago."

"He's gone to Ireland?" I said, surprise colouring my tone. Arthur just shrugged.

"Well, come on so. Book our tickets will you? We have to see what the hell he's doing over there, do we not?" Eames raised an eyebrow. Arthur nodded and began to type furiously. Whilst Arthur got our flights, Eames brought me back to the hotel to pack my clothes. I stuffed them as quickly as possible, grabbing my bag of toiletries before Eames could rush me out.

Eames drove even more like a maniac. He ran red lights and passed out people on one way's. I clutched my seat and begged myself not to throw up.

"Ok. Let's go." Arthur ushered us into his car. He drove at a much more reasonable pace and I found myself staring at his profile. I stopped as soon as I realised, blushing in the process.

* * *

The journey was a long, gruelling ten hours. I felt my ears pop as we landed in Dublin. The sky was overcast; the greyish white clouds were low in the sky. I wasn't expecting Ireland to be like this. I'd seen it in pictures of course, but I'd never been there.

It was rugged; green fields rolled around the city, the cows huddled in the distance. On the country roads, you could see people galloping on their horses over logs. It was very peaceful. But the city had an amazing atmosphere: cheerful people whistling on the way to work, teenagers laughing and texting, couples holding hands. There wasn't a tanned person in sight.

"Come on, this way." Arthur whispered. His hand found the small of my back. My heart almost had a seizure.

"Hello there. My name is Aaron. How can I help ya?" a friendly man asked. He had a heavy Irish accent, a mop of black hair, pale skin, and bright blue eyes. I smiled at the cheeky glint his eyes.

"Yes, have you seen this man?" Arthur held the photo of DelCaptio up for him. Aaron studied it for a second.

"I think so… from a distance. He had a bloody army surrounding him." He replied. Arthur nodded slowly.

"That sounds about right." Arthur replied dryly.

"Thanks for your help." I added, smiling at Aaron.

"No bother to ye. Slán!" he waved, I glanced back to the charismatic man and he gave me a wink.

Arthur booked us into a hotel. We would go fishing for answers tomorrow morning. Yipee.

* * *

**Just so ye r not confused, slán means goodbye in irish! its a stupid language, but we dont have a choice, we have to learn it. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here's the next chapt :) sorry if i kept you waiting! **

**Anyhoo, i hope you like it. Please review **

**Holly :)**

* * *

I kept my back rigid. I pushed the sliding sunglasses up my nose. I was unusually wearing high heels; only for the occasion of stalking a rich merchant, of course. They made a slapping noise as I walked. Arthur was ten steps behind me in the busy streets of Dublin.

DelCaptio was completely unaware of our following. He was only a few feet away from me; I could only just make out what he was saying.

"I'll be there in a minute sweetie," he sounded sad. "Relax. I'm just around the corner." He spoke harsher this time. "Goodbye."

Eames sidled next to me. "Walk right behind him. If he turns around, stop, and look at a shop window." And he stepped back next to Arthur. I quickened my pace until I could hear the muted conversation with the guards. I only got snippets;

"Conway Street... third house on the right... my _children_..." he looked upset."Stupid bitch doesn't want me to…" and then he turned around. Our eyes met for a half second, but it was enough to send a shiver up my spine. His eyes were bloodshot and weary, with a deep, hidden sadness. I expertly moved my eyes to the space above his shoulder, and then walked in that direction. He barely noticed me. I moved back behind him and watched his orange hair flop around his head. Very subtly, I slowed my steps so that I was in line with Arthur.

"Something about children and an address. Looks like he's in a fight with an ex or something." I whispered into his ear. Arthur nodded and looked at the departing figure of The Italian man.

"Good work Ariadne." His breath tickled, and he gave me a small smile. I smiled back briefly, and then strode back to DelCaptio. I was only a few feet away, when a black Range Rover pulled up and all four of them hopped in. _Ah shit! _I cursed. I could hear the two men struggling to keep an ordinary pace.

Arthur grabbed my arm and pulled me to the taxi Eames had hailed. The taxi man weaved dangerously through the growing traffic. We reached Conway Street in less than five minutes. The country roads were bare and deathly quiet. But sure enough, there was the third house on the right with the black Range Rover outside.

We edged to the nearest bush. All tree of us squatted in different places; Eames behind a tree, Arthur in a shrub, and me in a hedge. We had to wait for Antonia to leave. As we sat there, for the forty minutes he was at the house, I reflected on an epiphany I had last night; if I kept jumping around like a jack rabbit, if I kept having a mini heart attack whenever anyone touched or spoke to me, they two men won't let me dream. So I toughened up. I am completely responsible for myself and am focusing one hundred percent on the job at hand, and not the Point Man's glances at my desk.

I had a perfect view of Antonia as he left the castle of a house. His eyes were covered by sunglasses. He looked unhappy.

"Say goodbye to Papa, my darlings." He croaked. Two little ginger haired children hugged him. Their faces were buried into his. "I love you. Papa will be back very soon." And he waved to the hysterically crying children. His face was tear stained, like his children's. A wave of guilt washed over me. I remembered my dad. Sitting by his legs as he brushed my long, chocolate coloured hair dry.

He would pat my back kiss my cheek goodnight. He was as good as any mother ever was to me. I missed him; the last time I talked to him was three years ago, before I moved to Paris. My fondest memories were with my sweet old dad. How his arms were the perfect cradle, and he would dry my tears with a "There, there now."

I snapped myself back to reality, and watched the howling kids staring after their departing father. I warmed to Antonia; he loved his children, but never got the chance to see them, seeing as they were all the way over in no man's land.

When it was safe to emerge, I stretched my stiff limbs. "That went better than I expected." Eames grinned and rubbed his two hands together.

"It did. We got more information than I thought. This is very good. We know the reason for DelCaptio's reason for being here." Arthur looked pleased too. I wasn't quite so happy. There was something not right about this man, like we might not like what we find. For the time being, I shrugged this apprehension off. It was unnecessary and would interfere with the job.

"Oh great." I mumbled under my breath. The sky opened and rain began to fall. My formal clothes didn't give me a great source of warmth either. So when one of the men mercifully called a taxi, I wanted nothing more than to sit in front of a roasting fire and warm my damp hair. As we sped back to our hotel, DelCaptio's broken face kept reappearing. I think I even dreamed about him that night.

* * *

"Come on Ariadne, we don't have all day!" I ignored Eames' jibe. I took one last look at the rural, ruggedness of Ireland. The sky was a dark grey blanket and the grass was short tufts of bright green. I'd be coming back soon enough anyway. I had to get the house he grew up in perfectly, along with his children's faces. We kept inconspicuous as ever at the airport. Our faces hidden and our steps brisk and quick.

The next morning, we were back in L.A. The sun was high in the sky; of course we never saw it seeing as we were straight back into the office. I worked hard on the mazes; using the new information as back up. The complexity of Antonia DelCaptio has me fascinated. If this job is to work, I have to know about his history, about his family members, and what is important to him. Even a decision he would have liked to make, but never did. I had to now about these personal facts that he kept hidden under the brittle and masculine facade of a wealthy Italian merchant.

Dreaming is very intimate. You share them with your colleagues, and they get an understanding of your sub conscious. I never realised how much Arthur knew about me until the day I saw files upon files of everything I like and dislike, my hobbies, my history. I'm sure I even caught a glimpse of my favourite colour. So honestly I felt sorry for DelCaptio, that we would invade his privacy and strip away all his secrets. But that is the way dreams went. It was a job. The best job out there, but still a job.

The next day, we would dream again. The thought filled me with a secret pleasure.


	9. Chapter 9

I missed him. Cobb had always known what to do in a tricky situation. He looked at every possibility on how to fix it, and when he chose his option, always followed through. No matter what the consequence. His absence was like an empty space, and his words of encouragement and wisdom that were respected more than anyone else's on the team, was gone too.

Which is why I needed him _now_. If we had walked into the warehouse together, like we had done before, he would not have let us stand there, our mouths agape. The warehouse was completely and totally trashed. Someone, or some people, broke in and knocked over every book and shelf, every desk and chair; Ariadne's models were strewn across the floor in a grey mess, glass was scattered in jagged points around the windows. I heard Ariadne's surprised intake of breath, and Eames' jaw lock.

"Who the _fuck _did this?" Eames shouted angrily. I stepped over the mess and dirt. My phone began to vibrate. The fourteen words on the LCD screen were enough to chill my bones and stop my breathing. _Hope you liked our little present. You know what we want. Argos & E. _

"Those stupid bastards." I whispered. A black rage was licking my throat like a bonfire, the urge to scream like a kid was even stronger. Those Russian _shitheads_. Ariadne grabbed my phone and read the message. Her face turned even paler than her usual porcelain complexity.

"Its those guys, isn't it? The guys who sent me that note." Her voice cracked a bit on note. I nodded. Eames groaned.

"That's just fuckin' super! The last thing we need now is those two dumbasses chasing us for little miss over there." He kicked at the rubbish. Ariadne sat on the only standing chair whilst I called the cleaning company. Her eyes looked huge in her oval face. She was the smallest twenty two year old woman he had ever been friends with. Not that he had, or even _needed _friends. They were friends though, right? Well sort of... New thought, new thought.

They were acquaintances.

A wave of tension rolled of Eames' shoulders and back. His mouth was set into a hard, angry line. I paced through the jumble of demolished rubbish. Luckily, I had brought my laptop with me, containing every move we would make on the DelCaptio extraction. We would have to move to wherever Antonia was staying. Honestly, it had come as quite a surprise that he had only been to Ireland to visit his kids. I didn't even know he _had _kids. Just shows you how much we know about our fucking mark. Now we would have to move because those stupid Russian pricks knew where we were located.

The cleaners arrived in record time, and said they'd have the whole lot cleared in two days. Thank god that was solved at least. But a new worry soon sprouted in its absence; they had probably already been in Ariadne's apartment. I walked over and sat down beside her. She looked drained from, what I could only guess was our sleuthing the other day.

"Ariadne, would you mind staying with either me or Eames for the time being? Until they leave." I spoke softly; her eyes never left that brick I'd seen her stare at hundreds of times. She only nodded. I patted her arm and left her to herself. She was young and innocent; there was no reason for her to be hurt.

"I'm going for a drive." I announced to the remaining two of our used-to-be five man team. Eames grunted and Ariadne nodded with sad eyes. The air was cool and crisp; the afternoon sun was just beginning to fade. I let the buttery air fill my lungs, and I felt an urge to go for a nice run. So I drove to my scarcely decorated apartment and threw on some shorts and a vest top. I was right; a run was _exactly _what I needed. It made me feel like I was just any old guy enjoying the remaining sun. Two hours later, I was back in a waistcoat and tie, driving back to the warehouse. My limbs felt unbelievably good; I'd sat in an airplane too many, and the exercise had unwound the tense muscles.

"Jesus, what sort of drive was _that_?" Eames demanded as I walked through the door.

"I needed a run." I answered simply, ignoring his eye roll. Ariadne smiled when I walked by her newly fixed desk. She was trying to organise the clutter that had already formed.

"Is it ok if I stay at your apartment?" when she spoke, her gaze flickered minutely but constantly, like she was still in her own little word.

"No problem." I half smiled and squeezed her shoulder. Thank lord I thought to get that spare bed. She returned to whatever the hell she was doing, and I helped the cleaning woman reassemble my desk.

By the time we left, the sky was an inky black. I helped Ariadne gather her belongings from her cosy apartment. Like I'd predicted, a note with a telephone number lay open on her desk, which I felt like spitting on. Poor Ariadne was a tad flustered at the thought of a complete stranger in her room. I couldn't blame her.

She walked into my dull home that was as impeccably tidy as a new building, even though I'd had the place for almost three years. She was asleep before her head had hit the pillow. Her mouth puckered ever so softly as she slept. I wasn't peeping at her of course, just checking to see if she was alright.

My brain felt like scrambled eggs as I climbed into my own bed. I, too, was asleep faster than my usual self. I normally read a book or pondered over something, but I was too tired to think.

The weight of the stress of the job and Cobb's absence piled behind my eyelids, until all I could do was close them and welcome the natural way of resting, not the artificial liquid we put into our veins to create a different world.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ok back in Ariadne's POV. Hope you like it?**

**Holly x x :)**

* * *

I awoke disorientated and in an unfamiliar bedroom. Then I remembered, this was Arthur's apartment. There wasn't even a hint of clutter, bar my room which already had books and clothes on the floor already. I crawled out of bed and checked the time. My watch winked at me in the dark; it was quarter to seven. I groaned and ran to the bathroom for a shower. The hot water helped my eyes open. I dressed in a rush, and as I expected, Arthur was waiting for me in his kitchen.

"Morning," he nodded, giving me a rare and handsome smile. He grabbed his briefcase and we began to walk out the door. The pale yellowy sun cast pink shadows across the buildings.

"Morning. How did you sleep?" I yawned. I could hear his mouth twitch.

"Fine, better than you anyway." I looked into his almond shaped eyes. He smiled and looked back to the road.

"Ok, what are we doing today?"

"Well, probably more tests. The day after tomorrow is the practise run." He replied casually. I raised my eyebrows. Was this job almost finished _already_? How strange...

"Oh. God that was done quickly." I muttered more to myself than to Arthur.

"Yeah, it was no inception. You had it the worst. Your very first job was an _inception_." He shook his head in what I thought was disbelief.

"And we succeeded." I added thoughtfully.

"Very true. You have a real skill, Ariadne. I wouldn't be worried about future jobs." His eyes crinkled. I smiled sheepishly at his praise.

"Thanks. But I probably wouldn't work with anyone but you and Eames, and of course Cobb if he ever wanted to come back." I shrugged. Arthur nodded.

"I understand. Cobb and I have worked together since our first job too." Arthur kept his voice level and his eyes on the window.

"Really? Why is that?" I was genuinely curious.

"Dunno. We were just a good team I suppose." Arthur shrugged. I decided to let the subject pass; Arthur obviously missed his friend and it wasn't doing him any good talking about it with me. The car pulled in next to Eames' convertible. The morning had turned from yellow to auburn. I loved autumn.

When I was little, I used to jump onto the crisp, curled leaves in my wellies. It's the best fun when you're five.

"Hey Eames." I called over to the Forger's hunched back. He waved and got back to typing something on the computer. The warehouse took even less time than predicted to be cleaned.

A cold wallow of fear caught in my throat like a balloon. The thought of those two Russian men made a shudder run right up my muscles. Why did they want _me_? Surely, there were better Architects out there? I didn't know, nor did I want to know.

Arthur gathered us around the whiteboard.

"This is one of our last test runs. We have to be _completely _ready by tomorrow."

"Thank you kindly Arthur for stating the bloody obvious." Eames pursed his lips.

"Shut up Eames." Arthur rolled his eyes. I sighed; I've had to hear them squabble and bicker for three weeks straight. Sometimes, it was nice when they could just work peacefully be themselves. "Anyway, Ariadne. We are going to try the second layer again."

I nodded and remembered my maze perfectly. I'd say in ten years, I would still know every maze I made.

I grabbed the PASIV and slid the needle into my wrist. A peaceful darkness ate away at my eyes. The black took over instantaneously.

* * *

I blinked at the blinding light that shone into my face. The city was bubbling with projections. Arthur was right behind me.

"Let's go." His hand sat on the small of my back as he guided me through the bustling crowd.

"Where's Eames?" I had to shout above the chatter of the projections.

"Around the corner." Arthur kept his posture placid. We weaved through the people until I saw a dark figure leaning against the wall expectantly. Eames winked at me and cut in front of us.

"Alright my chums, where to?" Eames joked. Arthur shot him a glare and kept walking. Eames muttered something like "... no sense of humour or imagination."

The building loomed ahead of us. Without even pausing, all three of us veered left. Here was Antonia's house that he grew up in. It was small and a bit dirty looking. We kept walking until we reached the building that he worked in. It was more skyscraper than building; he had one of these in every country. The glass door revolved around slowly. The projections stared at me and Arthur murderously as we headed towards the lift.

"Ok. We have to make our way around the security, but other than that we should be fine." Arthur led the way past the receptionist. DelCaptio's office was up on the top floor. After eleven floors, we each hopped out of the lift and into the neat space of his office. It over looked Milan and stretched out for miles. And because it was round at the top, he had a three sixty degree view.

_Not a bad place to work._ I drifted off to my own little world again. In my world, there were beautiful old buildings surrounding the city of Paris. There were never any murders or rapists, just happy, peaceful people going about their work.

I snapped back into the dream and focused on what Arthur was saying.

"...it should be in here to the left." He motioned to the safe hidden behind a block of plaster. The ground began to rumble. The dream was collapsing, and we were about to wake up. I closed my eyes and grabbed a hand. I never liked it when the dream fell apart beneath our feet. The air whooshed around my ears, and I gripped the warm hand even tighter.

I opened my eyes to find my right hand lying cold and limp next to my torso. My breathing was rushed and heavy. I had no idea what happened, but a huge wad of fear kept attacking my heart. Why was I so scared? It felt like I was being watched.

"Can we go home?" I turned to Arthur, my eyes pleaded. He looked a bit confused.

"Er, I suppose. Are you ok?"

I nodded hastily and almost ran out the door, calling a rushed goodbye to Eames. It was only twelve in the afternoon.

Arthur grabbed my arm.

"Ariadne, what the hell is wrong?" he spoke quietly and with concern.

"Um..." how to explain?


	11. Chapter 11

**Ok here's the new chapter! back in arthurs POV :)**

**Holly x x **

* * *

Ariadne sat in the passenger seat of the car twiddling with her hands. I looked at her expectantly; she bit her lip.

"Ariadne, if you don't want to tell me that's fine..."

"No, no, that isn't it. I don't really know myself. I just feel like, I dunno, that someone is watching me, like I'm not safe by myself." Her voice turned sad. "Maybe I'm just paranoid, but that feeling just won't go away." Her fist clenched the seat. I patted her leg.

"Don't worry, it'll be fine. Whoever you feel threatened by, scared of, etc., will go away. I promise." I tried to be comforting or reassuring in some way, but when it came to emotions, I was as good as a fucking robot.

Her tense shoulders relaxed a bit. "Ok, thanks Arthur. Sorry, you don't have to mind me or anything." Her smile eased my awkwardness and I squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. The drive home was short. I let Ariadne lie on the couch and read her book, whilst I pottered around making coffee and doing unnecessary jobs. I wasn't used to all this free time; I booked flights and cleaned dusty shelves. My books were stacked in a neat pile on the shelf; I straightened their backs and cleaned the covers. I ironed a few shirts, and washed some ties, but I was compels finished two hours later. There was nothing else to do.

"You hungry?" I tapped Ariadne on the shoulder. She glanced up from her book.

"Yeah, a bit. You?"

"A bit," I smiled. "Would you like to go for lunch?"

She looked genuinely surprised. "I'd love to."

I didn't want Ariadne feeling unsafe or paranoid; some food might do her good. I fixed my waistcoat and locked the door behind me. She had a quiet, subtle way of walking. She either had her hands in her pocket or in her hair. Her footsteps barely made a noise, and I couldn't even hear her breathing. Her eyes flickered every so often.

I'd never seen eyes like Ariadne's; they were huge. Each one was a chocolaty liquid full of inquisitive, sincerity and innocence.

We stopped at my car and I drove out to the city of L.A.

"Where would you like to go?"

"How about... Cafe Bar Deli?"

"Ah. Good choice." She had very good taste in food. I parked in an impossible tight space right outside the picturesque restaurant.

"Hi. Can I help you?" the waitress came over with a painted on smile.

"Yes, table for two?" I asked her politely. As my mother had said, a bit of politeness goes a long way.

"Ok, no bother. This way, please." She brought us to the corner by the window that overlooked the park outside. I could hear little children squealing with delight as the fed the ducks. We both took our seats and the woman gave us the menu. I peeked at Ariadne; her face was relaxed and weary at the same time.

"Are you feeling a bit better?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Thanks Arthur, I'll be fine." She smiled warmly and turned back to the menu. I scanned it at a lightning pace.

"Are you ready to order, sir? Madam?" the waitress asked.

"Yes, can I have the scallops with parmageano, please?" Ariadne answered.

"Ok. And you sir?" She turned to look at me.

"Could I have the... lobster and prawns, please?"

The woman jotted our orders down. "And to drink?"

"The house wine." and I flashed the girl a smile. She rushed away. Ariadne shot me a sceptical smile.

"You trying to get me drunk, Arthur?" she teased. I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

"No, just thought we could do with a nice drink, to relax." I winked at her. She blushed. The woman bustled back with our wine. I sipped the red drink. It warmed my stomach, and I relaxed my arms. Ariadne seemed to be doing the exact same thing.

"Good idea about the wine." She sighed and looked at me. I stared back. Our eyes met and my heart thumped in my chest. Whatever spark had been there was gone; the moment had passed.

I realised how much I really enjoyed her company. She was very apt, her view on things sometimes confused me, but she was the quickest learner I'd ever come across. She would make one hell of an Architect.

"So, Mr. Arthur, what made you want to start dreaming?" she held her hands under her chin.

"Well, in college, I was studying engineering and maths, and then dreaming was introduced. I was curious, so I tried it."

"And here you are." Ariadne finished. I smiled wryly.

"And here I am." I muttered. "Are you from Paris?"

"No, Canada."

"Oh. Really?" I faked surprise. I knew everything about her already; I didn't have a choice. I needed to know she wasn't some serial killer.

"Yup." She nodded. "What about you? Where are you from?"

"Right here." And my mouth twitched at her surprise. "What?"

"You looked more like a New York type of guy." She shrugged. I laughed.

"And how many New Yorkers have you ever come across?" I joked.

"That's irrelevant." She grimaced. I smiled and watched the blush fade out of her cheeks. The waitress came back with our meals. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

"What'll we do for the rest of the day?" Ariadne broke the silence.

I shrugged. "Whatever you want to do."

"What about a walk?"

I smiled. "Sure." Her answering smile was so lovely.

* * *

**A bit more romance in this chapter; I got bored of all the serious stuff :) **


	12. Chapter 12

**Ok, warning here! This chapter is much shorter, but waaay steamier than usual. I'll be going back to serious things soon, this is just a bit of fun!**

**Holly x x :)**

* * *

We sat on the bench. I was very conscience of Arthur's arm brushing mine. Butterflies batted their wings up my throat.

"It's nice to get a day off once in a while."

I nodded in agreement. "Too true." I sighed, pulling my coat tighter around my body. The park was cool and green; the pond glistened like honey.

We'd been sitting there for an hour; just talking away. "Do you wanna go get a drink?" I casually asked. Arthur's dashing smile lit his face.

"Who's trying to get who drunk _now_?" he teased. I chuckled and grabbed his hand. It was very warm. I dragged him to the nearest bar. I felt in the mood to go clubbing, but I was too tired.

"One beer, and one martini please." Arthur ordered for me. We sat in a quiet booth. The guy came back with our drinks and eyed me slyly. I knew that look _all _too well. After two more drinks, I was beginning to feel just a little bit tipsy. Arthur held his drink so much better than me.

I giggled at whatever Arthur was saying. He laughed at me chortling. I must've looked like such an _idiot_.

"I'll pay for this round Arthur." I mumbled. The drinks were going straight to my head. He smiled and let me. At that point, I was _definitely _drunk. I eyed Arthur playfully and whispered into his ear coyly, "Let's go dancing..."

Arthur chuckled. "Nuh-uh."

"Why?" I pouted.

"Well, your drunk, I'm a little drunk, and we actually have to go back to work tomorrow." He made perfect sense, but I was long gone sense.

"Pth!" I scoffed. I winked at the waiter. He smiled and watched me leave wistfully. We half stumbled to a nightclub. Its neon sign flashed and I could hear the music blaring from inside. The bouncer was huge and menacing.

"You on the list?" His voice sounded muffled.

"Hiya. Nope, but here's a fifty for the both a's us." I handed him a note and dragged Arthur in behind me. The lights flashed across everyone's closely packed bodies. The ground moved under me, but I just laughed. I can't really remember what I _did_ on the dance floor, but I remember wishing Arthur would come a little closer. My arm draped around his neck, and his around my waist. We shouted and drank until I was sure I was dreaming. The other people around eventually ended up pushing us so close that if I tilted my head, our noses would touch. I could've easily just leaned in and kissed him.

"Come on, we should get home." Arthur spoke into my ear. I nodded.

"I suppose..." I slurred. He held my hand on the way out. Arthur hailed a cab and I fell in. "'Scuse me, bu do you know what time it is? I asked the cabbie.

"Half one." He grumbled. Damn, the night was still young. The darkness and drink together turned the world into intoxicating and beautiful colours. The cabbie squealed to a stop and dumped us outside Arthur's apartment. We each held each other for support, and finally Arthur opened the door. My head spun around as fast as Cobb's totem.

"Hey, Ariadne... Maybe we shouldn't have had _so _much to drink..." Arthur's voice came from behind me. I turned to see him much closer than I thought.

I don't know if it was the drink, or that I'd been paranoid for the past few days, but I pulled Arthur to my mouth, and we kissed. His mouth tasted of toothpaste and beer; mine couldn't have been much better. His tongue very carefully slipped into my mouth. A sudden wave of lust settled into the pit of my abdomen. I pulled him onto the bed, gasping for breath. One hand was raised in the air with a cocktail; the other was curled around his neck. His weren't any better: one firm one snaked around my waist, the other just below that, and trailing further downwards... pulling me closer...

My head cleared enough for me to get a grip of myself. This was _Arthur _I was kissing. My co worker and friend. What the hell am I doing? I pulled away.

"Arthur... fuck! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... ah for the love of Christ!" I half ran, half fell into my room with a confused Arthur following.

"Hey, hey. Ariadne... It's fine. It's fine!" His usually composed eyes were glazed from alcohol. He clasped my hand and pulled me back. "It's fine." He murmured, pulling a lock of hair from my face.

"Sorry." I mumbled and pulled away to my room. Little was I to know how painfully embarrassed I would be the following morning.

* * *

**See what I mean about steamy? :) ooooh well**


	13. Chapter 13

**Ok here's the next chapter :) sorry, but I've gone back to work mode.**

**Anyway, hope you like it x x**

* * *

No, no. I wasn't ready to wake up yet. My head _pounded _against my skull, my eyelids felt like they'd been dragged through brambles. But there was the alarm clock, my new enemy, telling me to get up. Fuck you alarm clock.

I literally _fell _out of bed. The shower did absolutely squat. No, that's incorrect, it opened my eyes; otherwise, my hangover dragged on painfully. I took four aspirins and sank into the folds of my bed.

"Ariaaadne!" Arthur popped his head around the door. I groaned. The memory of last night's gallivanting glared in front of me. How could I have been so _stupid_? I mean really, getting fucking pissed, and then latching onto Arthur like my long lost beau gone to sea. Arthur would never talk to me again. The thought depressed me.

With that kiss brought back many strange memories; a hotel lobby, our legs touching, and our lips barely brushing. I could feel the bewilderment on my face the second he said 'worth'. It wasn't like anything Arthur would ever do. I remember standing in the room and watching him set up the PASIV. I could see the gentle outline of his spine, and my eyes still burned with confusion and shock. It was spur of the moment; and Arthur was the complete opposite.

I staggered upright. My eyes were bloodshot, my hair a wet tangle. His eyes just seemed to soften. How did he look _so _much better?

"How are you not _dying_?" I muttered into the pillow. He only chuckled.

"Oh, I am. I'm just good at hiding it."

I moaned.

"Come on, Ariadne. We have to go." He spoke softer. I felt like crying, but I pulled myself together and stood upright, sort of. I pressed my fingers to my throbbing temple. "I know. Its _shit_." And he put a hand on my shoulder. Why was he even talking to me?

We walked to the car in silence. I laid my head on the air bag compartment.

"Never, _ever _again. Ever." I mumbled.

"I'm with you there." Arthur agreed dryly. My ears burned hot, my cheeks flared.

"Er, Arthur. I _really _didn't mean to…" I groaned. Arthur interrupted:

"Forget about it. We were drunk; we were absolutely _wasted _at that." He sighed. There was a little, adamant voice shouting in my head that I didn't entirely not want to. It was small, but growing.

"Still. I'm sorry."

"Ariadne," his glazed, sleepy eyes burned. "It's ok. _Really_."

It was still humiliating. And I'd just have to live with it for the next few days. _Whoopee._

_

* * *

_

"No, _way_!" Eames sat in his chair howling with laughter. I had a strong urge to push him off it. "How did you get him to go out? No really. He never wants to come out with me; I just thought it was because he was boring… Look at your face!" Eames chortled.

"Shut up Eames!" Arthur snapped. His face was a stony glare. I saw the weight of last night's drunkenness cqatching up onn him. It just made me more affectionate towards him; this was the only time I'd ever seen Arthur look so _human_.

"Ooh, touchy are we?" he shot back.

"Jesus fucking _Christ _Eames. Just go play with yourself or something." Arthur scowled menacingly.

Eames narrowed his eyes and turned back to his work. I let out an exasperated sigh and got back to my own desk. I stared at the paper with hundreds of tiny words on it for almost twenty minutes. Would they notice if I put my head down for five minutes? I decided to take my chances.

The cold desk was pleasant against my burning cheeks and throbbing head. I felt sleep creeping though my eyelids. I dozed off into my own little world; letting my mind drift to wherever it felt like. The most common subject was, annoyingly, Arthur. His lustful eyes and quick breaths so close to my face.

"Achem." Eames cleared his throat and kicked my chair. I jumped and caught him smiling to himself.

Later that day, it was time for our practise run. Thankfully, my hangover didn't affect me in the dream. We wandered around, making sure every last detail was perfect. I could feel Arthur's sly, quick but frequent glances in my direction. My eyes would avert to his every few minutes, and then I'd blush and bite my lip in chagrin.

The buildings were vast and colourful. I'd miss the free feeling of creation; tomorrow it would be replaced by adrenalin and worry. I drifted in and out of my own little world. I'd hear what one of them said, then the next thing they'd be waving in front of my occupied eyes.

Luckily, I knew exactly what I was doing. This job would go a hell of a lot smoother than the last one. We wouldn't even have to split up afterwards. I left the dream in a daze and awoke with a bit of vertigo. I stood up from the lawn chair and fell to my knees as an over whelming wave of dizziness coursed through my head.

"Ok, that's it. An early night for you, missus." Eames frowned and pursed his lips as Arthur pulled me up.

"But…" I protested. He silenced me and ordered Arthur to take me home. He helped me into the car; I was asleep in a mere two minutes.

I stirred as I felt the air whooshing around my ears, but I soon fell back into my slumber. The last thing I remembered was a pair of strong arms under me.

* * *

**I'll be finished in a few more chapters! maybe six? I dunno, around that :( **


	14. Chapter 14

**okay, arthurs POV here!**

**Hope you like it x x**

* * *

Never would I forget the night we got drunk. It was engraved into my subconscious.

Her eyes would roll back into her head, and a new roll of laughing and dancing would succumb her eyes. If you saw Ariadne working for inception, and then pictures of her dancing with that wasted, hilarious smile, you would lose all respect for her in a blink. She was absolutely _wild_. Not even as a teenager was I that mad. It made me like her even more than I already did; which was hard.

She then got uncontrollably horny and kissed me like she was still a virgin. It made me laugh and return her enthusiasm with as much force as possible. Now the consequence of having a break came back to bite me in the ass.

My head _pounded_. It throbbed and groaned and told me frequently that I should still be in bed. So when I carried Ariadne's dreaming body up two flights of stairs (the lift was broken), a peace wrapped my scrambled brains. Her face was so pure and innocent; she looked about twelve. I laid her on the bed and let her sleep it out. She deserved that much. I followed suite; my head _needed _rest. Maybe three seconds before I fell asleep, I was aware more than ever of the sleeping girl a mere meter away. Only a little wall separated our two rooms.

* * *

I woke up refreshed. The night was a glistening ray of white from the moon; it was half two in the morning. The air was crisp and chilly. I sat up and went straight to the shower. The scalding water soothed the tense edge to my muscles. I wanted to go for another run. Oh well, maybe after work.

We would be flying to Lake Como today. DelCaptio was getting that very same flight. We would perform simple extraction on the man. My heart sank with sorrow that we would destroy the uptight, sad merchant's only success; his business. There was a chance he wouldn't be able to even see his children after everything went down the drain.

There was nothing I could do about it; money is money, even for such stupid _petty _reasons. Vacci Seemind was an asshole. Just as this thought occurred, our employer rang me.

"Arthur, so nice of you to pick up." His Italian, sickly voice crooned.

"Hello Vacci." I replied as politely as I could.

"Are you all set up?" he barked.

"Of course." My tone was stiff and cold.

"Super. Well, I'll see you all on the other sides of the airport gates with each of your pay cheques."

I grunted a thank you and hung up. I sat in my grey kitchen with a cup of coffee, when Ariadne walked through with only her t shirt and shorts. I rarely blushed, but my cheeks reddened to a scarlet colour. I sat with only a pair of shorts on, my hair damp, and my chest bare and cold. Her eyes widened, but she hid her glance with a swift turn of the head.

"Arthur? What are you doing up at the crack of dawn?" she bit her full bottom lip.

I smiled without knowing it. "I could ask you the same thing," I grinned wider as she grimaced in chagrin. "I woke up and couldn't sleep."

"Oh. No, I couldn't sleep either." She mumbled. "Ok. Well, I'm going to get dressed now…" but she didn't move. I sat watching her. We stared at each other like that for a few seconds, minutes, hours. I couldn't tell. Eventually, she scratched her head and gave me a departing glance. That one look showed confusion, bewilderment, and disbelief. I'm starting to believe that I'd never understand such a complex girl.

I washed my coffee cup and I, too, went to get dressed. Ten minutes later, I was completely respectable and ready to get to work. Ariadne was quiet, but not out of awkwardness, more like she was too deep in thought to make conversation. I was the type of person who didn't fill the space with mindless chatter. If there was something meaningful to say, then I'd say it.

The journey was peaceful and calm. It was like heading into the eye of the hurricane; the second we boarded the plane, we would be out of this serenity and safe place. We would be in the hurricane of the mind.

The warehouse was deserted and empty. I grabbed the last of our equipment and I rolled my loaded die on the table for the last time. Ariadne was doing the same.

"What happens to this place when we go?" Ariadne broke our silence. I swivelled my chair to face her desk.

"The same as Paris; it's just left deserted. They're cheap things to rent out; we don't need to keep them or anything."

"Hmm…" she mused, and went back to her own little world of Ariadne. I dumped the remaining shit into the back of the car. We sped towards the airport where we'd meet Eames. The city hummed around the little black bubble that was the car. I rolled down the window and smelt the fresh, minty scent that was L.A.

For the journey to LAX, everything slowed down. I felt like a normal man with a normal woman next to him. The relaxing sound of Ariadne's breathing echoed through the confinements. It was more soothing than meditation.

The bubble of ease collapsed like a dream. We stepped out of the car, and our whispers of goodbye were lost in the wind.

"Alright darlings, lets get a move on shall we?" Eames greeted us with his irritating, sly smirk. I nodded and we did what we did best; blend in with the crowd. We moved through the airport quickly and silently. We waited for a half hour, and then we each boarded the plane. The flight attendant and first class seating was bought in advance, so we just sat in our roomy seats and waited. DelCaptio followed us and sat a few meters away. He glanced at us briefly and then opened a book and began to read.

Ten minutes later, he was slouched in his chair, unconscious. The flight attendant wheeled the PASIV in, and we stuck the needles into our wrists.

_And now, _I thought to myself, _We enter the hurricane_.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey :) this chapt is short and creepy!**

**Tell me what you think.**

**Hope you like it :) x x**

* * *

The black swarmed around my head like angry bees, they got faster and louder. I wish they'd go away. And I opened my eyes.

I stood in the middle of a densely populated street. The sun was beating down, causing rainbow patterns to dance on the skyscrapers. I squinted my eyes against the brightness. A car beeped and a door flung open.

"Thanks." I flashed the Point Man a quick smile before I closed the door and we sped off. The car swerved past angry projections. "Where the hell is Eames?"

Arthur's face turned into a bitter smirk. "Look to the right." He replied exasperatedly. I did as was told; there was the Forger on a huge, black motorbike, causing a huge commotion. The motor roared as he pushed it faster. It then squealed as he pulled off an impressive wheelie. I rolled my eyes at the child in a man's body.

"Of course." I muttered. We kept driving through thick traffic until we reached a dome shaped glass building. It stood with an air of pride; the beams were spiralled with ivy and roses, there wasn't even a spec of dirt. I jumped out and slammed the door. I waited outside as Arthur and Eames went to break into DelCaptio's office. I followed them swiftly; my rushed footsteps echoed the marble interior, sounding like a hollow banging.

I opened DelCaptio's office and saw his sweaty face amidst the broken glass. His breathing was laboured and he was pleading in Italian. I walked forward and he began to scream, curling inwards. I looked at Arthur with confusion. His eyes reflected mine.

"Hey, hey. Relax Antonia. _Relax_. I'm not going to hurt you." I spoke with a ring of safe authority. He turned his head slightly. His arms and legs were tied up and tears ran down his cheeks.

"Please, please don't hurt me. Please!" he screamed hysterically. Jesus Christ! What the hell is wrong with him? He began to hyperventilate. I sat next to him and patted his flinching arm.

"Antonia, I have no intention of hurting you. Just calm down, ok? Now, that's a bit better." He slowed his breathing down to a normal pace. "Now, just follow us, and nobody will touch you."

He stood up shakily, still biting back another shriek of fear. I escorted him to the car, Arthur walking ahead and Eames behind. A bag was thrown over Antonia's head, and in a matter of seconds, he was passed out on the car floor. We drove to yet another empty warehouse. It was the safehouse of my maze. There wasn't a projection in this city that could possibly find us. The huge double doors were locked and I opened the PASIV. Then we entered the second layer of the dreamscape. We didn't even know the _half _of what we were getting ourselves into.

* * *

I was awoken to the sound of screaming; this time a child's. The sound came from the distance. It wasn't a squeal of delight, but a blood curdling shriek that made an involuntary shudder ripple up my spine. I wiped my hand over the dust forming in my eyes. The room was dark and musty.

_Shit_. What am I doing here? I'm supposed to be in a fucking tunnel, not a stuffy apartment!

I looked around; there was nothing but a moth eaten couch and one window. The child screamed again and I jumped with fright. This time, I followed the noise. I walked through a hallway that was lit only by a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.

"Please!" The child's pleading voice echoed towards the left. I opened the apartment door with a shaky hand. The room had no air and was a murky brown colour. It was very dark. A little boy with red hair was pinned to the corner of the room.

"Daddy, please! I didn't mean to, I'm sorry..." he sobbed. A tall, lean man emerged from the shadows.

"You bet you fuckin' are boy. I swear to God, if I ever catch you trying to run, I'll fucking _kill _you!" The man snarled. He grabbed the boy by the hair and crashed him against the wall. He took a belt and began to pummel the living shit out of him. I sank to my shaking knees and cried. The boy just screamed with every lash and kick.

"I'm sorry Daddy. I'm sorry..." he whimpered. The man spat on the little boy's bloody body and kicked him like he was a mutt. He stalked past me without even glancing. I made my way over to the trembling boy. There was a pool of blood around him. He turned to stare at me with a dead glint in his eyes.

"Save me..." he whispered. My heart ached in pain. I cried and held the little boy's hand. Realisation was cruel; for here was Antonia DelCaptio lying broken and young at my feet. His father had just beat him and left him bleed to death. Tears streamed down my cheeks.

"Save me. Please, save me!" Antonia sobbed in pain. I sat there as numb as a pin. My heart broke at the deep sadness that I just whispered.

"Wake me up! Wake me up!" I whispered urgently. I crawled away from the dying, howling child. I scrambled to my feet and ran blindly down five flights of stairs.

"Wake me UP!" I wailed. The ground was swirling around too fast.

"WAKE ME UP!"


	16. Chapter 16

**This chapter is kind of a filler, but there will defo be more creepy/action in the next one :)**

**Hope you enjoy x x x :)**

* * *

"Eames, why isn't she waking up?" I stood over Ariadne's unconscious body. Hysteria crept into my voice. Eames stared at our beloved little Architect.

"I don't know." He replied simply. His brow was furrowed in worry. Oh God, why wasn't she awake? There hadn't been any movement in her for ten minutes. Sometimes, it took people a few seconds longer than everyone else, but not _ten minutes_. I pulled a shaking hand through my hair.

"Oh God. What's wrong? Was it the sedative?" I paced through the tunnel. DelCaptio was just a few metres under us. We were to break in and crash his party, whilst getting the information we needed.

"I don't know."

"Well don't just sit there like a bag potatoes!" I snapped. I picked up Ariadne's body and carried her down to the hole we had to climb up. "Go down a bit further and see if there's another entrance."

And for once, Eames did what I said. He wandered down the path, leaving me alone. I sat watching her peaceful face. Her lips puckered, and her usual lines of worry smooth like a stone. I gently stroked her cheek. If anything ever actually _happened _to her...

Well, she was definitely hooked up to the PASIV, seeing as her body was here, but _she _wasn't. Her eyelids flickered. A well of hope gathered in my throat. Her hand twitched and she opened her eyes.

I never knew Ariadne had such lungs; she screamed so loud it hurt my eardrum. I couldn't even hear Eames shout a curse word.

"Ariadne! Oh my god, where the hell were you?" I held her tiny, petite body close to mine. I patted her shuddering back. She clutched my arm and gasped for breath. "Relax Ariadne, it's just me."

Her breathing slowed and her screams turned quieter. "I was in a memory." Her voice broke and she held onto the tunnel wall for reassurance.

"A memory?" I was confused. She nodded.

"Antonia, he was beaten as child. By his father. I was in his apartment, and I saw a memory. His father beat him wi...with a belt." She stuttered. I took her hand and rubbed her back soothingly.

"Ok. Well, this is very, very bad." Eames interjected. Where did he come from?

"Why?" I questioned. He sighed and scratched his head.

"Well, if you recall, that was exactly how our Russian chums trained your mind. Instead of an angry mob coming after you, you'd experience the target's worst memory."

That put me in my place. Everything now made sense; the wanting Ariadne, us not giving her to them. They _knew _we wouldn't give her to those creeps, and now they punished us. At any time, Eames or me could stumble across one of DelCaptio's most painful memories, and feel the pain he was going through.

"Oh no." I whispered. Ariadne had stopped crying, and returned to her usual self. She wiped her eyes and picked herself up.

"Well, should we go on?" Eames turned to me. I could feel both their gazes like stones. I shifted under their uncomfortable stares. If we didn't continue and just shot ourselves, we would lose. And Agros and Ethos would come after Ariadne anyway. But if we kept going on, there was a chance we could get lost in Antonia's subconscious. I hate decisions. Sometimes, its nice for things just to take their own course.

"Yes. I think we should." I finally broke the tense silence. Eames nodded. We kept going; I walked behind Ariadne and tapped her shoulder.

"Are you ok?" I whispered so as that only she could hear. She turned to look at me with sober, calm eyes. My lips twitched and I squeezed her shoulder. And we climbed up the hole to the dim light of the kitchen.

* * *

All I can remember from Antonia DelCaptio's memory, was the heartbroken disappointment in the little boy's eyes. Like the only glimmer of hope he dared dream was crushed like his bones. The thought made a tear run down my cheek. I was fine now, but I would forever remember the dead glint that took over.

I woke up to Arthur's caring eyes. I screamed hysterically, but Arthur was there hugging me, his arms were soft and warm. I calmed down instantaneously. I was back to work Ariadne.

We were given formal clothes, as Antonia was throwing a 'dinner party'. My dress cut a bit too short to be classed as formal, but the two boys looked dashing in perfectly crisp tuxedos. I don't think I'd ever seen Arthur look so handsome, or Eames so smart.

Eames went off to find DelCaptio, and just follow him for a while. Arthur and I were to observe from a distance, which suited me fine. Arthur wrapped his arm around my waist and brought me to a table with food and wine. What was it with him and dreams? And these personal little shows of affection for me _in _these dreams?

He leant down and whispered quietly, "We have to make a run for it in less than five minutes." I nodded and smiled at him, getting lost into the almond shaped, black pits that were his eyes; full of authority, knowledge, and kindness. I blushed and he escorted me through the crowd of glamorous projections.

I felt Arthur nudge my ribcage, and I knew we had to go. It was time to Extract, and ruin the man's business.

And, we were running down a hallway after Eames and the captured Antonia. We reached the room where the two men were. There was a bag over Antonia's head and he was sitting in the corner. I tried to keep my thoughts impersonal and cold.

Arthur's words began to slur and he stumbled backwards. I caught his arm, and he crashed to the floor. His unconscious body scared me. Antonia pulled the bag off his head and laughed gleefully. He began to mutter incoherently to himself.

"Oh crap." I whispered, and dragged Arthur next to me. He was experiencing a Memory. I held his hand and prayed he would not be as disturbed as I was after the oneI had endured.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey :) sorry if I kept you waiting! I actually _did _go out clubbing on saturday, and I've only recovered now. Anyway, here's Arthur's 'Memory'.**

**Hope you like it :) x x**

* * *

I knew something was wrong the second I entered that room. As I ran down the grey corridor, my head began to spin. It was like someone was playing the drums. Then I stumbled into DelCaptio's hooded figure. My legs buckled from beneath me and the last thing I saw was Antonia's crazed stare. And my head cracked against the floor.

* * *

I awoke to a faint thumping in the back of my head. I rubbed my eyes and stretched my arms. I was in Venice in the early 80's. This part of the city wasn't something tourists wanted to see; it was the real Venice. The whole street was lined with broken, crappy bars and houses. There was glass and rubbish everywhere, prostitutes stood outside smoking, and there were drug dealers around every corner.

I stood up and rubbed my head. A flash of red caught my eye; a few yards down, a young man stood with a cigarette in his hand. It seemed like he was looking for someone. I had the urge to follow him. Antonia DelCaptio stood nervously in the middle of the very dodgy street. He was only about seventeen or eighteen, but his eyes could've been one of a forty year old mother with kids hanging off every arm and leg. His sad weary eyes didn't even glance at me, but onto a crumpled box with an old blanket a little way down.

He walked cautiously towards it. I followed. It wasn't a box, but a woman of about fifty; she smelt of alcohol and urine. And she had the exact same hair colour as Antonia; a deep, bright auburn.

"Mama?" he whispered. She glanced at the man. Her eyes widened with shock and outrage.

"Wh-what are _you _doing h-here?" she slurred. Her voice was angry and disgusted.

"What do mean? I came to see if you were alright." Antonia replied, hurt. He put out his cigarette.

"If I w-was _alright_? Do I look alright you stupid dumbass?" she began to shout. Her eyes twisted into unrecognisable pits of hate. Antonia's face froze in horror.

"I'm livin' the dream, aren't I? Jesus, why did you come? Haven't I endured enough _shit _from you and your piece of dirt of a father?"

"But… Mama, you're my mother. We're blood, I love you." He spoke quietly. His eyes filled with disappointment.

"Oh fuck off! You were an _accident _Antonia. I never wanted you. I still don't. Now leave, and never come back." She spat.

Antonia staggered back a few steps. I felt my heart wrench downwards. "I can't just go Mama! I can't just _go_." He began to sob. But the woman curled inwards, fingering her half empty bottle of whiskey. Antonia stood and stared at her, tears forming in his eyes. But she never even turned his way.

Antonia realised this, and walked away. He stumbled into an off license and bought a bottle of jack. I naturally followed him. His breathing was getting more laboured and his eyes had changed.

He ambled aimlessly, until finally, we reached a bridge. He clambered underneath and leaned against the limestone. Antonia opened the bottle of alcohol and began to down it. I watched the man drown his sorrows with little more than a gasp.

After ten minutes, he took the empty bottle and smashed against the side of the bridge. I shielded myself against the flying glass. A smile formed on his face; an idea formed.

He grabbed a shard of glass and a gun from his back pocket. He put the barrel to his temple.

"Why don't I just do it right now, eh? Nobody wants me here, so why don't I just shoot?" Antonia snarled and turned his demented glare at me. I sat in shock.

"No, Antonia. Don't! Just… just put the gun down, ok?" I tried very hard to sound resolved and reassuring. His pupils doubled in size, and he licked his cracked lips.

"Yes, but _why_? What good am I to society? I am just an ordinary, worthless, pathetic _useless_ person, like everyone else on this godforsaken world." He twisted his face into a sneer.

"Please, Antonia. You don't know that. You have your whole life ahead, things will get better, I promise." I encouraged.

"Of course they will. And then they'll get worse, then better, then worse, then better, then I _die_.I'll breath, eat, shit, and die." He toyed with the gun.

"Please, just don't shoot, ok?" I bit my lip as he traced the gun with his index finger.

"Fine." He shrugged and dropped the gun, I sighed with relief. "But I have to have _some _sort of punishment for my existence, don't I?" A wicked smile lit his eyes up.

"No! No, no Antonia. Don't!" I cried. But it was too late. He took the shard of glass and dug it into his forearm. He yelped, and my gasp got choked in my trachea. Blood spilled everywhere, it dripped all over his shirt and jeans, it pooled to the ground, it was _everywhere_. He laughed a cruel snarl. He dug it in again. It looked like he was engraving something into his skin.

He was branding himself.

"Oh Mama, now I can never leave…" he muttered sadly to himself. The blood poured from his arm, but he only smiled wider. I scrambled backwards, cutting my knees on the gravel. Antonia cackled; it soon morphed into uncontrollable sobs. I pulled myself up and began to sprint away as fast as my legs could take me.

"Frere Jacques, frere Jacques, dormay vu, dormay vu…" he sang to himself, he was now far in the distance, but it was the only sound I could hear. A sad, deeply unwell young man singing to himself with an arm that needed stitches.

I tumbled to the Venetian ground. I rolled to my side and covered my ears, desperate to block out the chanting of the nursery rhyme.

Frere Jacques, frere Jacques, dormay vu, dormay vu…

* * *

Arthur still hadn't woken up. It had been ten minutes and nothing. I kept glancing to Antonia, who returned the gaze with a weird, creepy smile. I shuddered. Then, _finally_, his hand began to tremble, and his eyelids fluttered open.

His eyes were tormented and disturbed. _Oh no… _I groaned inwardly. He gripped my hand and gasped.

"Shh…" I squeezed his hand comfortingly. His eyes rolled backwards and he tried to grab for something. He pulled himself up using the one sideboard in the room. He stared at Antonia with a look of horror and anger.

Antonia chuckled darkly and pulled up his sleeve. There was a prominent scar going up his arm; it read 'Mama'. Arthur began to hyperventilate and stumbled backwards. He stood with his back against the wall and real fear in his features. I took his hand and tried to calm him.

"Arthur, Arthur! Relax, there we go. Relax…" I whispered. He wriggled under my iron clasp around him. A tremor of horror rippled through his spine. I patted and soothed for as long as necessary.

After he had calmed down and returned to the Point Man we all knew and loved, I asked him the question.

"Ok, Arthur. What happened down there?"

* * *

**I don't usually end a chapter with a question, but I didn't know what else to do :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Here's then next chapt. Its not very exciting, but anyway.  
Hope you like it :) x x**

* * *

Atrhur had just explained to me about his Memory. His jaw was clenched and his shoulders were bunched. The tiny knowledge of body language that I knew showed the sign of a tense, stressful experience. But what really spelled out his disturbed state, was the haunted, dead reflection in his eyes.

My mouth was pursed, and I held his hand. He had been there to comfort me, and now I was here for him. He bit his lip and paused at what he was saying. I held his persistent gaze. We stayed like that for a few minutes. I squeezed his hand and got up, (trying) to pull him up with me.

Arthur was a real man; he shook off his horrible dream, and just got on with the job. By the time Eames had returned, he was fully recovered from his anxiety attack. DelCaptio had been dragged into the hall and questioned.

"Ariadne, stay with him please." Arthur ordered and glanced at the twitching Antonia. A shudder ran through him.

"Ehh… really?" I looked pleadingly at Arthur. I didn't want to stay and babysit while the two boys got to go off and do all the action-ey stuff.

"Please?" then he turned to me and looked at _me _pleadingly. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Fine." I grunted disapprovingly. "Stupid men don't even give me a chance…" I muttered under my breath. I can only guess that Arthur, seeing as he left with smile threatening to appear, heard me.

They trotted off down the hall. Whilst I was left with a half demented Antonia.

"I swear, try anything funny, and I'll shoot." I warned. Antonia smiled nodded. The gun felt very heavy in my hands; like it was made of lead and not cheap metal. We sat in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the wall. Until I'd had enough.

"Why didn't you tell anybody?" I blurted out. DelCaptio didn't meet my eye. He didn't answer for a few seconds.

"Ha, ha. Why? Oh child, have you never heard of pride?" he laughed bitterly. His eye was bruised, and his hair dishevelled. His shirt had stains of blood and mud on them. I assumed it was a rhetorical question.

He licked his lips and continued: "Well, I did not tell anybody, mostly because there was no one to tell. I have no friends, I have no parents, I felt I could cope on my own." His voice softened.

"What about a therapist?" I wondered aloud, curious.

He snorted humourlessly. "In my country, you only get psychological help if you've gone cuckoo."

His Italian accent was surprisingly soothing. "And your wife?"

He stroked his chin, like he was pondering. "I did to a point. But you can only tell one person so much. She didn't understand, as she was brought up from a very wealthy background. In fairness to her though, she was sympathetic, empathic even, but our marriage went down the drain anyway, so I was glad I didn't tell her everything."

"Why?"

"Why? Well, you _are _young. You have not observed the human mind for as many years as I have. Humans are petty, jealous, _ignorant_ things. When our marriage broke up, Sophie wanted to spread every dirty secret I owned to the press. It was a petty reason of course, obviously, but luckily, there wasn't anything… juicy enough for the press to feed off of. She was furious." He turned to meet me, wearing a frown, his eyes deep in thought.

"You are quite a philosophical man, Antonia." I sighed.

He smiled wryly. "Yes, let's call it philosophical."

"But if you came from such a…poor childhood, how did you become one of the most well known merchants in the world?" that fact had been confusing me for too long.

"Well, back when I was a student, living a life of poverty, I began to sell things. Little things, like newspapers and magazines. But I progressed; I was given a little bit of money from some Aunt over in Dubai, and soon I was selling stuff like…eh, televisions, radios, you know the sort. Anyway, I was at a trade show in Venice and this company approached me. I was having a good day and was selling like a mad man. But this company wanted me to sell their product, and I would get some of the profit. So I did. I now own that company." Even though he was the picture of glumness, a bone deep pride shone through. I realise now that that was what was keeping him going through all that shit he had to endure.

"Oh. And you met your wife in Ireland?"

"You're an inquisitive little thing, aren't you?" He said, but not unkindly. I blushed. "But, yes. I did meet her in Ireland. She had the true Irish blood in her; you know, the black hair and blue eyes." Whatever he was remembering, it was obviously something fond, as his voice melted like butter.

"Ok. Well, Antonia, I really am sorry that you had to be put through all of that." I said sincerely.

He turned to look at me and his eyes were full of pain.

"And now, you're going to take it all away from me, aren't you?" there was a crushing disappointment in him that made me want to stop the whole job. I nodded solemnly. "I should've known better. Listen to me child, don't you ever forget this. You can trust _no one _in this business. You hear me? No one."

"Like, in the dreaming business?" I whispered.

"No," he shook head sadly. "No, the business of human society. No matter how much you _think _you know somebody, you don't. I can tell you from experience. Just trust me on this one girl, you don't." and he slumped further down into the wall. I sat watching him with uncertainty. He seemed so _urgent _for me to know this. But he couldn't possibly be right, could he?

I slumped next to him.

"Antonia, after this, you will never remember who I am, or the information that we know. We will be projections from a distance dream that you once had, and nothing more. Let me tell you, I am sorry that I will never see you again." I stated. Hopefully it would put him at ease. _Or you at ease_, a patronising voice chimed.

"Thank you girl." He replied wearily. We sat in silence for the five minutes of peace we had, before things went downhill, no _vertically _downhill.

"GET ON THE FLOOR!" A voice screamed from down the hallway. Two men dressed in black were running towards us. There was one tall, burly man, and one slightly smaller, wiry man.

"Who the hell are you?" I shouted. The men stopped in front of us, panting. I held the gun up in fear.

"I wouldn't do that if I were's you, sweet pea." The wiry man sneered. He had a Russian accent. A _Russian _accent. Everything seemed to get very dim and quiet all of a sudden.

"What do you want?" I said. Hysteria crept into the pit of my stomach.

"You." The burly man replied, smiling. He twisted his head and examined me.

"Oh, it's such a pity that I'm not for sale." I snarled. Their grins just grew wider.

"I assume you know who we are, so let's skip the introduction. Shoot yourself, or suffer the consequences." The man name Argos shrugged.

"Excuse me? Go to hell!" I shook my head incredulously.

"Fine. Your choice." And he crushed my body against the wall. I screamed in pain, hoping that Arthur could hear me. It was going to get so much worse if he didn't come. And I would have to suffer, but honestly, that was the last thing on my mind at that very moment. Number one was, how do I stop them from ruining _everything_?


	19. Chapter 19

**Ok, this kind of like a pro-finale. But I'm done quite yet :) **

**Hope you like it :) x x**

* * *

I left Ariadne reluctantly; there was something fishy that I couldn't put my finger on. But there was no time to go exploring; we'd lost enough time with those stupid memories. Eames strode ahead of me and checked for any security.

My tux didn't even have a scratch on it, so we went straight through the party unnoticed. Eames had found that there was a safe containing some information. That's all he got from Antonia; generalisation. He didn't know the specifics. Just that there was some secret he was hiding.

I ignored the red haired projection that gave Eames a flirtatious wave. This was no time for flirting with DelCaptio's subconscious. I gave Eames a dig when he winked in return. The dream would collapse in less than twenty minutes.

We found the room in which the safe was located; it was small and the colour of crimson. The carpet was plush, and there were sofas and armchairs scattered around. The safe was in the darkest corner.

"Ok, open it." I nudged Eames. He muttered something under his breath, but took out a pin. He put the pin in the lock and began to turn it around. I stood patiently and stared at the ground.

"Ah ha! Got it." He announced triumphantly, I rolled my eyes. The safe door swung open, and I snatched the pieces of paper. I scanned through them twice.

"What the hell? There's nothing here on his business at all!" I shouted, horrified.

"Let me see." Eames took the paper from my hand. His furrowed brow deepened as he read.

"Arthur, what is that word there?" Eames pointed.

"Malnourished. M-A-L-N-O-U…" I replied exasperatedly before he interrupted me.

"Righteo, thank you." He kept reading. "Yes, you're quite right. There is nothing on his business. He doesn't seem to have any secrets on it."

"Shit! Vacci is going to _kill_ us." I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Well, let's keep looking." Eames searched the safe again, in case we missed a page. I began to dissect the information we already had.

And I heard a scream.

Not just any scream, but _Ariadne's_ scream.

I swivelled around to Eames, just in case I'd imagined it. I didn't.

"Oh no." I whispered. A horrible, cold feeling of dread masked any ounce of calm I once had. "Ok, Eames. Stay here and keep looking for that information. I'm getting Ariadne!" I barked. Eames just stood looking at the paper in his hands. "Now Eames! Now!" I yelled. A sob of hysteria threatened to rise. Jesus, what happened? Why did she scream like that?

"Wait, Arthur. You have to make a decision." Eames grabbed my shoulder. "It's Ariadne, or the job. I'm not going to be able to find anything else in the ten minutes we have without your help."

I stared at him, shocked. "Goodbye Eames, do the best you can." And I ran through the dinner party, back to Ariadne.

She was pinned to the wall by a big, gruff looking man. Not just any man, but Argos, the very man we'd tried desperately to protect her from. Ethos stood a little way off, smiling wildly. How did they get here?

"Ariadne!" I shouted. She turned to look at me with glazed eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks. I took my shotgun, mouthed an apology, and shot her in the head. If she was awake, she could tie them up. Her body dropped from the heavy man's grasp, but not before I could see what they did to her.

There was blood by her neck and hairline, her eye was bruised and her leg was broken.

"Jesus." Was all I could choke. I ran backwards and picked up the shovel I saw on the way. Argos and Ethos were preparing to shoot themselves, when I crashed the shovel down on Argos' head. He was knocked out immediately, but not dead. Ethos lunged at me and screamed some incoherent curse words. I whacked him against the wall and punched his ugly, mousy face. He fell to the floor with blood flowing from his nose.

I caught him in a headlock and pinned him to the ground. I tied the two men as tight as their skin would let me. They were dumped next to Antonia, who was praying in Italian.

"She didn't deserve it. She did nothing!" he shouted at me.

"I know, Antonia." I whispered. A single tear escaped, which I brushed away. The two Russian men were now unconscious on the floor. I wiped the blood off my hands.

"You care for the young girl?" Antonia asked, sympathetic.

"Yes. I do, very much so." I replied, quiet.

"Good. She deserves it." He said. I looked at him for a few seconds, raising an eyebrow. The ground rumbled under our feet.

"Antonia, goodbye. And I'm sorry." I patted the man on the back, and we fell into the hole of reality.

* * *

I don't really remember much, just the painful relief of seeing Arthur round the corner. He picked up his gun and shot me. He took me away from all the pain and hurt that those two men inflicted upon me. I would be forever grateful. When I awoke, I understood why he shot me; I was to tie them up and sedate them. And I did that. The airhostess was lying in the bathroom, obviously heavily sedated too. I took the emergency supply Yusuf sent us and made sure that they would not wake up for a few more hours. I then sat in my chair and tried to breathe normally.

Easier said than done.

I really wanted Arthur. He always knew what to do. I stared out the window of the plane and watched the clouds under us. The PASIV began to beep. The dream was collapsing. Where was Arthur? Was Antonia ok? God I needed t go to the bathroom. Eames stirred and sat up from his slumber.

"Ariadne. Are you alright darling?" he stood up and gave me a hug. I tried to repress the new sobs forming.

"I'm ok, Eames. What about you? Did you get what was needed?"

"Sort of." There was a smile in his voice.

"Ariadne." A soft, calm voice came from behind me. I turned and saw Arthur. I couldn't contain the tears then; I half ran and threw myself into his arms.

"Arthur." I whispered into his shirt. He kissed me then; but not like a dramatic, passionate kiss you see in movies, it was a kiss of relief.

He tasted of salt and chocolate. God, I'd missed him.


	20. Chapter 20 Epilogue

**OMG! Its the finale! Il be sad to stop writing this fanfic... oh well, sorry. Oh yes, and sorry for taking so long too. There has been two deaths of my friends' family in the past 2 weeks... :( and thank you to TriGemini for always reviewing and being so kind :) thank you to everyone who added this to their favs/alert list, you made my day :) thanks to all the reviewers, you brought a smile to my mouth every time it came up in my inbox. Hugs and kisses to all.**

**Holly x x  
**

* * *

I woke up to a cosy, orange glow rising from the window. My bed was extremely warm; warmer than normal. I found out why pretty quickly.

Arthur's arm was slung around my, thankfully, clothed waist. He wore an old t shirt, and I had shorts and a tank top on. I froze in place and stared at his dishevelled hair. He slept with a look of peace, and surprisingly, innocence. I brushed a lock of black hair from his brow. His intelligent brown eyes flickered open.

We stared at each other for a few seconds, not moving. "Morning." I smiled sheepishly, trying to break the silence. His eyes softened and melted.

"Good morning." He whispered.

"Just to make sure, we didn't…." I trailed off, blushing beetroot.

"No. We didn't." This time he smiled, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Not that I wouldn't want to, you know… er…" I stammered. I was such an awkward human being. He chuckled and kissed my lips hastily.

"I need a shower. Back in a tick." He winked and tottered off to the bathroom. I rubbed the back of my neck, my cheeks still burning. I changed into casual clothes and tied up my hair into a messy ponytail. When Arthur emerged from the bathroom, he was wearing only a towel around his waist, and I was drinking hot coffee.

I choked a little and put the cup down before I could stain something or give myself third degree burns.

"Aw crap. Eh… I'll go into another room." I bit my lip and left with my head down. He followed me in a pair of smart pants and a coloured shirt.

"What's wrong with you this morning?" He grabbed my waist, sending spasms into my spine. "You're very jumpy." He frowned.

"I'm fine," I lied. "What happened last night? And why can't I remember anything?" I swiftly changed the subject. Arthur's grip loosened and his eyes darkened.

"Everything is taken care of, if you're talking about the job."

A wave of recollection hit me in the face. I could remember the Memory, how scared I was when Arthur just collapsed, talking to Antonia and met the poor, disturbed man that seldom had ever seen. I remember a comfortable silence, and then, nothing.

"What happened when you left to extract the information?" I questioned, my brow furrowed. Something wasn't right. How could I just not remember?

"Look, Ariadne. Please just don't hate me," he said evenly, but his eyes pleaded. I nodded. "Stuff happened after that time, that I never wanted you to remember. Yusuf gave you a serum. It made you forget the majority of the dream, and reality too," Arthur grimaced."Bu I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Ok, so what happens now?"

Instead of a normal reply, a big goofy grin spread across his face. "What?" I asked.

"You didn't freak out like I thought you would." He beamed in delight. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, if it was as bad as you said it was, your intentions were good." I shrugged. His rare smile lit the room and made my stomach flip into thousands of somersaults. His fingers traced my face and down my arm, leaving goosebumps. He stared into my eyes for a minute, a second, a day, I couldn't tell. Then dropped his hand and smiled.

"Would you like to go for a walk? Maybe, explore Belagio?" He tilted his head cheekily. I smiled shyly and nodded.

On that walk, I experienced many a thing at once.

We strolled through warm parks and happy places. I wore cut off shorts and my sunglasses. We were enveloped in a bubble of sun; it warmed each vein and caught every strand of hair in its glow. The lake shimmered, its reflection of the sun in the shape of a W. Our arms were welded into pale river beats of shapes, our hair whipped into strands of coarse silk. My mind would wander, and the trees and pedestrians changed into flowers as I passed. When Arthur's hand finally slipped down my wrist and intertwined his fingers with mine, I felt the answer in front of my eyes; his fingers felt like thick rings of safety. I couldn't see it, but I could physically feel it. I was falling in love. And when I glanced at him, things didn't make real sense; and I couldn't give a rat's ass. To be honest, I'd rather live in the moment.

**The End**


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